


folly to be wise

by Vault_of_Glass



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Other, Sex Pollen, drugs cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 18:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18238493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_of_Glass/pseuds/Vault_of_Glass
Summary: "Sharky stares back up at them, eyes wide in the same awed and turned-on way he watches roaring flames - like they are fire given form, and he wants to let them devour him."





	folly to be wise

In the momentary pause between gunfire, Malin thinks this must be the fastest they’ve ever run. With the boom of mortar blasts shaking the ground beneath their feet, they fight the burn of strain in their lungs and crash through thorny underbrush, dodging branches and bullets that land far too close for comfort. “Come on, Boshaw, we need to move!”

They hear Sharky cursing between labored breaths, his voice quickly swallowed by the deafening crash of another explosion that leaves their ears ringing with pain. An engine roars somewhere on the road to their left, careening ever closer with each second.

“Up ahead!” he calls from behind them. “Cut right through the trees, I know a shortcut!”

There’s no time left to think about it. They pivot and weave deeper into the woods, quickly gaining speed as the forest floor starts to dip beneath them. Their feet struggle for traction in the dirt, and they’re reaching out for nearby branches to slow their descent when the ground suddenly drops and they’re no longer running, they’re falling, tumbling ass over head down the side of another godfor-fucking-saken Montana mountain.

“SHARKY-Y-Y!” they scream, their voice clipped into fragments by each impact of their body against stone and hard-packed soil.

“Sorry, Dep!” he hollers between grunts of pain, rolling a similar trajectory down the hillside behind them. By the time they reach flat ground, their head is spinning and their body aches from the rough fall down. They climb to their feet, the wind beaten from their lungs, swaying as the world tilts around them.

A gunshot rings out from the top of the mountain, loud and heavy, .50 cal, the bullet sinking into the ground at their feet and kicking them into immediate motion. They lunge for a nearby guardrail and slide into cover just as another shot lands inches behind them.

Sharky darts past them across the open road, narrowly avoiding more gunfire. “Found a ride, Dep, let’s go!”

Across the street, they can see him throwing his leg over the seat of an ATV. Bullets rain down around them as they sprint to catch up, pinging against the guardrail and chipping the asphalt. They’re halfway across the road when they feel something impact the back of their thigh and white-hot pain sinking deep into the muscle. The sudden burn shocks the breath from their lungs. They hear the rush of blood pumping in their ears as they stumble and drop to a knee, barely catching themself before their face hits the asphalt. White stars burst across their vision, colors splitting and swimming and burning at the backs of their eyelids. They reach back with a shaking hand to grasp at their thigh, where their fingers find the shaft of an arrow. They yank it loose and look down at the bloodied tip with a sickening plummet of fear in their stomach.

“Shit, Dep, we gotta go!” Sharky doubles back to grab them by the arm, hauling them to their feet and guiding them toward the ATV. Their legs feel numb beneath their weight, but they manage to clamber onto the seat without collapsing and wrap a weak grip around Sharky’s waist. They slump against his back as the ATV rumbles to life, and it strikes them somehow, through the adrenaline and agony and residual nausea, that Sharky sort of...  _smells nice_. Like cheap cologne and campfire smoke and soil that’s warm from the sun.

“C’mon, c’ _mon_ , you piece of shit, get goin’!” The tires kick up sprays of dirt when the quad finally jerks into motion. The seat bounces with every bump and turn in the road, shifting their weight into the deep bruise forming down the back of their thigh. They grit their teeth and swallow back a noise of pain, but Sharky feels the tightening of their arms around him. “Hang in there, bud! I know a place nearby.”

They wet their lips and choke out a laugh. “You knew a - ugh,  _fuck_ \- shortcut, too.”

“Got us outta there alive, didn’t it?”

Their hands curl into fists, gripping his hoody with white knuckles. Glimmers of light still flicker at the edges of their vision, a hum like rushing water filling their ears. They close their eyes against the familiar, dizzying high as bliss floods their system. Airy whispers sing at the back of their brain:  _Walk the path. Have faith in the Father._

Sharky’s gruff voice tears through all the white noise. “Not far now! Hang in there!”

They feel his palm graze the back of their hand, and the scalding touch of skin on skin is enough to send a thrill of something filthy down to the pit of their gut.  _Ah, shit. Fucking bliss._

By the time he slides the ATV to a stop, their knees are trembling on either side of the padded seat. He hooks their arm over his shoulders, and they stumble drunkenly from the vehicle, reaching out to clench his sleeve in their fist.

“Coulda taken ‘em,” Malin says, despite how heavily they lean into his side.

He grins, all teeth and confidence. “Shit, Dep, you don’t have to tell me. Let’s just get you patched up before you go all Rambo on ‘em.” He supports the weight of their injured leg as they hobble up the wooden steps to a small cabin tucked away from the road. Their skin is starting to sting with sweat beneath their clothes, itching into all the scrapes that litter their body. With the pain and blissful daze comes a wave of ravenous craving, a feral, hungry need. Their first taste of bliss had left them sucking their teeth and thinking back on every sexual experience and naughty fantasy they’d ever had with a longing that ached. They’d spent hours tangled in the sheets of their bed, touching themself until they’d sweat the damn stuff out.

The front door squeals in protest when Sharky swings it open. Malin quickly disentangles themself from his hold and staggers away from him, twitching when he steps worriedly in their direction.

“You good, amigo?” he asks in a cautious voice, holding his hands up like one might approach a cornered bull.

“Dunno.  _Fuck_.” They open their fist, where they still have the arrow clutched tight in their grip. “How the fuck did they land that shot?”

He plucks it from their hand with a long, knowing _hmm_. “Even Peggies get lucky, I guess. Jesus, I can smell the bliss on this one. They must want you out cold.”

“Supposed to sedate me?” They don’t feel sedated. Every nerve in their body is wound up tight like a livewire, tense with energy. If he would only touch them, drag those calloused hands across their skin and ease this  _itch_ in them -

“I mean, usually. But you’re tough as shit. Not surprised it’s not enough to take you down.” Sharky straightens his cap and crosses his arms over his chest, eyeing them with a determined look. “Now you gonna let me take a look at where they got you, or you just gonna let it bleed and get worse and junk?”

“Sharky -” they start, and stop with a frustrated noise. The thought of his hands anywhere near their body is too much right now, too close to what they need. Their heart races behind their ribs with raw anticipation. “Shit, I’m… I got it. I’m about to trip hard, and…”  _and if you touch me right now, I’m going to fucking jump you_. “...it’s not gonna be pretty.”

Recognition dawns on Sharky’s face. They catch the beginning curl of a smile before he wisely curbs the expression. “Bliss gets you like that, huh? Don’t worry, Dep, I get it. No judgment here. Once fell into a field of it and damn near jerked myself dry.”

“ _Sharky_.” Harder this time, an edge of panic sharpening the corners of his name.

“I’m just sayin’! Shouldn’t let that wound bleed out just ‘cause the bliss gets you a little horny.”

They close their eyes, dragging shallow gasps of air into their lungs. They feel as if they’ll suffocate within the sweat-damp hold of their clothes, like their heart has no room left to beat. Their hands move before they can stop themself, yanking fitfully at their clothing. “Make it quick,” they bark.

Sharky leaps into action, rummaging through the cupboards and shelves for medical supplies while they impatiently disrobe. They wrench their shirt up over their head and toss it away with a sigh of relief. Their jeans have been dirt-scuffed and torn, and they roll the denim carefully down their legs, wincing when it clings to their skin with drying blood. When he returns with a first aid kit in hand, they’ve kicked out of their boots and left their ruined jeans in a pile on the floor.

His footsteps fall short behind them, a wounded  _buh_ catching deep in his throat.

“That bad, huh?” they ask without turning; if they can’t see his face, the temptation feels easier to resist.

“No, that’s not -” His words stumble over each other. “You’re just... you’re fine - it’s fine, man. I mean, dude. I mean, Deputy.” He groans. “I’m gonna shut up and bandage your wound now.”

They find themself laughing despite everything - the heavy pounding of bliss in their head, and the hunger gnawing somewhere deep in their core, every inch of sensitive skin that screams for relief. “You get blissed out there, too, Sharky?”

“I’m tryin’ real hard to keep my cool here, Dep, and you’re really not makin’ it any easier.”

_That makes two of us._

At the first touch of his hand against their skin, a needy whine escapes between their teeth. They’ve felt a lot of roughness in their life, but never one so sweet before, his touch the perfect pressure to soothe that ache in them. He jerks his hand away at the sound as if they burned him, already rushing through a hasty apology as their body throbs at the loss.

“Shit, I’m… sorry.” His voice sounds dry and strangled. “Just gotta get this cleaned up. Then you’ll be good.”

They are so very far from good. They won’t be good until they’ve got him on his back and sank so far onto his cock that they feel him for  _days_ -

“Fuck,” they growl when his fingers graze the inner slope of their thigh. “The fuck is in this shit?!”

Sharky dabs something cold and damp against the puncture wound that leaves it stinging. “No idea, but they gave you enough to tranq a horse and somehow you just ended up gettin’ a little hot. You sure you’re human?”

Even in the climbing orbit of their high, they recognize that he’s distracting them. They could kiss him for being so thoughtful. Shit, they’re considering it anyways. “Don’t know any alternatives.”

“Hear me out, ‘cause I’ve been thinking  _cyborg_ lately. You can beat faces in with your fists and pick up cars and shit, but you’re still all... soft and… warm… like a human…” His voice trails off, his touch momentarily faltering. Slowly, hesitant, his hand lifts to palm the slope of their thigh, his thumb rolling vague shapes into their skin. “Didn’t think you’d be this soft,” he says under his breath.

When they choke out a harsh moan, he seems to snap out of his daze. “Shit, uhh -” He clears his throat, and they can hear him busying himself with the wrapper of a bandage. “Shit.”

“C’mon, man.” They take a steadying breath. “You gotta keep us both on track here.”

He wraps their wound and runs his thumbs along the edges to seal it into place. His voice is just a broken rasp when he speaks. “Gotta be honest with you, Dep, not great with responsibility.”

“Sharky -”

“I just watched you blow up, like, six cars. You know what you look like all surrounded by fire and explosions and shit? You know how hard it is to run for your life with a boner?”

“Sharky!”

“And you got, like the  _nicest_ ass, I don’t know why I’m surprised at this point, I just wasn’t expectin’ it and then now I’m sittin’ here up close, and -”

“ _Charlemagne_.” They turn to face him with a beseeching moan, because they have to stop him, he can’t keep talking like this and making it all so much worse.

Sharky stares back up at them, eyes wide in the same awed and turned-on way he watches roaring flames - like they are fire given form, and he wants to let them devour him. Again that sense of urgency rocks through them, a pounding heart between their thighs that’s begging for relief. It takes every ounce of self-control not to give in and sink their fingers down to where they know they’ll be wet.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold on much longer,” they tell him in a shaky voice, running a hand through the dark, messy strands of their hair. “I’m gonna have to do something about this. It’s eating me from the inside out.”

“Fuck.” His eyes close as if dizzied, and when he opens them again, they’re dark with pupil. He clenches his hands into fists in his lap and takes a deep breath. “Look, I know you’re all blissed-out and hurt and shit, and there are probably some issues of consent here that should be addressed, but it is fucking killin’ me watchin’ you struggle when I’m dyin’ to help you.”

Malin bites their lip between their teeth. Every errant thought they’ve had of Sharky on his knees, between their thighs, coming apart beneath them echoes and redoubles into vivid feedback loops, and when they meet the desperate hunger in his gaze, they can see it all progressing clear as day.

“Fuck it,” they sigh, and catch the drawstrings of his hoody in their fist, tugging him to his feet. He meets them halfway, eagerly reaching for their hips as he steps into the space between their thighs, and just his body heat and proximity already have them melting with anticipation.

The kiss is even better, rough and hurried, deepened when they feel him graze his teeth along their bottom lip. His hands climb their waist, and trails of heat follow his touch, the barest beginning of relief and they need more, they need him everywhere until he’s burned out the last of the bliss from their system.

Their head falls back when they need air, and his mouth continues down the line of their throat. They feel his beard and lips and teeth leaving marks, biting down and sucking until they gasp and grip him closer. They’ll have a litany of hickeys when he’s finished, but his mouth feels too damn good to mind.

Sharky’s fingers find the hemline of their binder and he plants one last rough kiss at the base of their throat before lifting his head to gaze at them with heavy-lidded eyes. “On or off?” he rasps, hitching their hips flush against his, where they can feel the hard press of his cock through his jeans.

“Leave it.” They slip their hand beneath his shirt, dragging their fingertips up the warm flesh of his stomach. He needs no further encouragement to yank his shirt and hoody up, knocking his cap aside in the process. Their hands roam his chest and the muscles in his back as he returns his attention to their neck, groaning into their skin.

“Tell me what you need, Mayday,” he pants, hips flexing instinctively against them. “Wanna treat you right.”

“Everything,” they gasp. “I need…  _fuck_ , I just need you to touch me.”

He flashes them a wicked grin and hauls them by the hips up onto the table. “Shit, you don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ to hear that.” His mouth marks a path down their neck, their collarbone, the shallow dips between their abs. He drops to his knees and they grip an unsteady hand into his hair, moaning in encouragement as he nears the heat between their thighs. His thumbs hook under the hem of their underwear and draw them dismissively down their legs, baring them to the warm open air and his ravenous gaze.

“Aw, fuck, Mayday.” Sharky groans and palms himself through his pants, staring at the slick between their thighs like he can’t tear his gaze away. He drags them closer with two warm, rough hands behind their knees and trails more hungry kisses up the slope of each thigh. “Christ, you look even better’n I thought you would.”

Malin voices a half-crazed laugh, and then his mouth is closing in, covering the swollen folds of their sex in one swift, greedy motion, and their nerves all seem to scream in satisfaction,  _yes yes yes, need more, now, harder, more_. Their fingers clench in his hair, and they grind their hips closer with a keening whine. They’ve broken bones without making such pitiful noises before, but Sharky’s tongue rolling around the hood of their clit is a brighter and sharper sensation than any pain or pleasure they’ve ever felt. The bliss has left them raw and wanting, split open into empty pieces, and they ache with the need to be whole again.

“Oh, shit… Sharky…” They breathe another trembling moan, watching him from under heavy lids, admiring his hands against their skin and the brief flash of his tongue with every loving stroke. Their heart crashes a frantic rhythm in their chest, their thoughts bliss-wild and feral. Their hips twitch and shake to his touch, and his hands grip them tighter in response, pinning them down against the table. He rounds his lips and sucks, his mouth hot and wet and his beard scraping rough against sensitive skin, and it all feels so filthy and  _so damn right._  They find themself almost grateful for the Seeds and all their fucking bliss if it’s led them to this moment, Sharky eating them alive with all the ardor of a starving man and seemingly no intention of stopping.

“Christ… fuck, I’m  _close_ ,” Malin groans, and Sharky redoubles his efforts, his tongue working messy and frantic shapes between the folds of their sex even as they start to arch and shake. Their eyelids flutter as they toe the line of coming, and when Sharky glances up from between their legs to meet their fucked-out gaze with that hungry, satisfied look, they fall crashing into climax. Everything snowballs into a rush of sound and sensation, white sparkles of bliss dancing in their peripheral as they tense and shiver through the high with a drawn-out moan.

Sharky never lets up, still sucking greedily between their thighs until they curse and drag him away by the hair. They’re both panting for breath, Sharky’s mouth and beard shining with slick, and another shudder grips their spine at the smug grin he flashes up at them.

“Shit, Mayday, if you don’t stop me, I could do that all fuckin’ day.”

“Later,” they tell him, voice cracking. Their hips are still twitching with aftershocks of pleasure when they yank him to his feet again, dropping a trembling hand to the outline of his cock. He bites back a groan at their touch, fumbling to help them loosen his belt. His cock springs free and fills their hand when they grip him, hard and hot and perfectly thick.

Sharky buries his face in their neck and whines their name as they tease him. They lick their fingers and curl them around the head of his cock, feeling him twitch against their palm.

“ _Fuck_ , that feels so good.” His hands clutch the curves of their hips, fingers flexing as he thrusts into their grip. “God, it kills me to say this, but… we don’t have to keep going, if you’re not -”

Malin draws him down into another kiss and gives a teasing squeeze to the hard cock in their hand. “I need  _everything_ , Boshaw.”

“Oh, thank god.” He grips them by the ass and tugs them closer, tracing the head of his cock down their sex until they feel him nudging in, so thick they’re mouthing filthy words and invocations of a god they don’t believe in as he slowly fills them. “Shit, shit…” He drops his head against their shoulder and whines into their skin. “Christ, you feel so fucking good.”

They wrap their arms around his neck, where they can feel the muscles tensing in his shoulders. He sucks messy kisses at their throat as he starts to move, slow rolls of his hips until they dig their nails into his back and voice an impatient growl. “I’m dying over here, Sharky.  _Fuck_ me already.”

He shudders at the desperation in their voice, his rhythm halting. “Shit, I’m gonna come if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Their hand curls rough around the back of his neck, dragging him down until their foreheads touch. “Then come,” they tell him in a fervent voice, “so when I get you hard again, you can fuck me all night.”

Sharky groans and claims the last few inches of space between them, his mouth moving clumsily against theirs as his hips rock a punishing pace. He sinks so deep so fast they can only cling to him to ride it out, each time his cock sinks home beating that perfect convergence of nerves within them and stealing the breath from their lungs. He grunts with effort, sweat beading his brow as he pins their thighs apart and fucks hard and hungry into them.

When their arms give out and they sprawl back across the table, shoving plates and silverware aside, he drinks their body in with wild eyes and rumbles a desperate sound deep in his chest.

“Fuck, Dep, you look so good… so fucking good… wanna fuck you again and again and again, never leave this fuckin’ cabin while I got you here -” His words start to rush together into a frantic rant, until he’s just begging their name over and over, teeth grit behind his lips. The table shakes beneath them with each violent rock of his hips, every hoarse cry that leaves their lips, every earth-shattering time they sink together in that perfect fit.

They don’t know if they’ll come again - it’s all just one long marathon of agonizing pleasure that leaves them screaming, speechless, thinking the world could end around them and they’d never even notice.

Sharky lifts their legs over his shoulders, and the brief throbbing of their wound gets lost among the bliss as the shift in angle links them deeper together. Tears of ecstasy well and gush down their cheeks. They claw at him with teeth and nails and gasp his name until he tenses up against them. His breath rises in wounded groans and he comes with a last few shivering jerks of his hips. They feel the rush of heat when he fills them, his hands shaking around their hips, voice dropping into a gruff howl before he finally grinds to a stop.

Sharky blinks down at them, chest heaving for breath, and they can almost see the fog of want clearing from his brain when he presses a trembling hand to the side of their face. “Shit… you good, Mayday?”

They nod, kissing his palm in reassurance. Their heartbeat is still racing in their chest, but the worst of the shivers have started to fade, that itching ache in them momentarily sated. “For now.”

A grin stretches across his face, tired and satisfied. “Well you want another heapin’ order of Boshaw with a side of fries, you know where to find me. Hopefully not doped to hell next time. Or at least on the good shit instead. Man, can I  _fuck_ when I’m blazed.”

Their stomach flips with a thrill of anticipation at the thought of Sharky sprawled out naked before them with a joint between his fingers. He feels them clench around his cock and rumbles out a gruff laugh.

“Yeah, me too, Dep.” He gives another lazy thrust that draws a whimper out of them. “I know you said ‘when I get hard again,’ but… any timeline on how soon you were expectin’? ‘Cause I dunno if you noticed, but I don’t think I’m goin’ soft anytime soon.”

Malin shoots him a wicked smile and nips teasingly at the base of his throat. “Well, I think we’re still a little short of everything. Might need all night to get there.”

“Fuck yeah.” Sharky hoists them up into his arms and hefts them toward the couch with shuffling steps, his feet still trapped within the jeans around his ankles. “Wait’ll I get you somewhere nice ‘n comfy. I’ll treat you right.”

It’s well into the evening when they feel like the bliss has finally faded, but Sharky spends the rest of the night making damn well sure.


End file.
